Page 17 of Death Bringer

She shivered. “I know.”

He reached out and took her hand again. “We’ll work it out.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’m not so sure.” She tried to ease out of his grip, but he held on and brought her fingers to his mouth. With exquisite care he kissed his way along her knuckles, his tongue always in evidence, his breath warm on her flesh.

“Don’t play games with me, Ms. Walsh.” He bit down on the fleshy pad of her thumb and her whole body came instantly to life. “You can’t have it both ways.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Teasing me, and then talking about work.”

“I didn’t—” She bit back a moan as he bit and then licked her. Damn, she was wet now, and he would know.

“God, I know, and if I had a little less sense, I’d take you outside, back you up against the nearest wall and fill you up with my cock.”

“Shut up!”

* * *

This timeshe did manage to pull out of his grasp. His gaze dropped to her open coat and the tight buds of her nipples, which were visible through her T-shirt.

He reached for the glass of water the waitress had placed beside him and drank it down in one long swallow. “You drive me insane.”

“It’s my fault now, is it?”

He looked at her indignant face, her flushed cheeks and soft fair hair. He wanted to shove his hands into her hair and bring her mouth to meet his, and then reintroduce her to other, more needy parts of his anatomy…

“Stop it, you pig!”

He took a slow inward breath and raised his head to look past her. The waitress was approaching with their lunch. Thank the universe for small mercies. Nothing ever got between his mate and her food. For once he was content to accept that. Except that this time, watching her enjoy her ravioli was akin to watching her orgasm. If he wasn’t mistaken, her low moans were more suitable for being naked and in his bed than for a plate of cheese and pasta.

He eyed her speculatively. Of course, he could make her some pasta from scratch… He shoved his fork into his spaghetti and twirled it. He was behaving like a fool when he most needed to be on his guard. If he wasn’t careful, Otherworld would have no problem dragging him back to face his fate, and Ella would be moaning over her pasta with someone else.

He finished his lunch and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “Are you ready to go? We need to be at the hospital.”

Ella scowled. “Give me a minute. I’m still eating.”

“Can’t you get it to go?”

“What’s eating your pants?”

Nothing, unfortunately.“I just want to avoid getting stuck in traffic.”

“Fine, I’ll get a box. This stuff deserves to be savored. I can have it for supper tonight.”

He stood up. “I’ll get you a box while I settle the bill.”

The route back to the hospital was full of twists and turns, and streets of unimaginable steepness, but he kept his attention fully on the task and ignored his companion as best he could. She didn’t seem to mind, having attempted a conversation, gotten pissed off when he didn’t reply and then fallen asleep.

She snored.

He parked in the staff lot and got out of the car to open Ella’s door for her. She smiled up at him and he almost snarled with lust. Tonight, unless she relented, he had to go back to his hotel room alone.

“Help me out, I’m still sleepy.” She extended her hand and he just stared at her. “Morosov!”

He yanked her out of the car and into his arms and was kissing her before she’d even drawn another breath. She didn’t fight him, just melted into him and kissed him back. Within seconds, his hand was on her ass, picking her up and molding her against his aching cock.

“Morosov.”

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